


I Used to Not Belong

by thepinupchemist



Series: Retail Hell with the Young Avengers [5]
Category: Young Avengers, Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Retail, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Dead Parents, Dumbass Emo Billy, First Time, Frottage, Grieving, M/M, Teddy POV, Teddy and America are roommates, Thick Teddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 07:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20254537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinupchemist/pseuds/thepinupchemist
Summary: Teddy finally has a boyfriend (!!!!) and finally has some good in his life. He's still processing the bad stuff, though. At least he has America to keep him company in the Dead Moms Club.





	I Used to Not Belong

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this fic is a fucking mess. I guess content warnings for a lot of random reflection about grief and a little bit of morbid humor coping mechanisms. If you're new to this series, Billy has a past suicide attempt behind him and it's briefly referenced.
> 
> A N Y W A Y soft tummy Teddy and eyeliner Billy 2k19

**Soundtrack: Dreamers – K. Flay**

_ **I Used To Not Belong** _

Tommy’s “Nah, I’ll just hang around and wait for David to get off” followed by, “Ha! Get off,” should have made the opening easier. Teddy wouldn’t have to feel awkward about Billy dropping his twin brother off at home before he drove them, for the first time, to Teddy and America’s apartment.

Teddy didn’t know why having Billy, his boyfriend (!!!!), in his apartment, clogged his throat with anxiety.

Maybe it was because next to Billy, he felt painfully average.

“We don’t have to go to your place if you don’t want to,” Billy said, when they sidled up to his ugly Honda.

Teddy could feel every hour of his shift in his bones. He never wanted to fold another t-shirt again. He never wanted to pick up the entire display of sunglasses after the pre-teens blasted through it, ever again. Despite the exhaustion, Billy’s presence bolstered him. Before they started going out, he’d go back to the apartment and eat cereal and work out and hide in his room watching RIP Vine compilations until he fell asleep.

“It’s just that...” Teddy stopped and chewed his lip. “It’s not much. Y’know. Compared to your place.”

Billy already knew that Teddy’d lost his mom – they bonded over being adopted. He didn’t know that Teddy also lost his biological parents, and that America had lost her moms, and how between the two residents of their shoebox apartment, there were four dead mothers and one dead dad. Mom had only been gone two years, and the thing with Teddy’s bio dad – ugh. That was a whole thing.

That Teddy could see thestrals a couple times over comforted him, but hit him like a kick under the ribs if he thought too hard about it.

Billy tucked his body under Teddy’s arm and pecked a shy kiss to the edge of his jaw. “I don’t care what your apartment looks like,” he said. “I just wanna spend time with you.”

Teddy smiled at his feet at that. He didn’t know how long it would take him to get used to having a boyfriend, but he hoped he never took Billy for granted.

Mom would have liked Billy.

They listened to Billy’s bizarre indie music collection on the way over, a playlist of songs Teddy had started to recognize over the past couple of weeks through all the ukuleles and nonsensical lyrics, and begun to associate with Billy’s pale face sliding into an easy smile as he mouthed along to the words. He didn’t sing out loud, but Teddy suspected Billy might sing when he was alone.

Teddy directed Billy away from the covered parking and up three flights of stairs. He unlocked the door and flicked on the lights. With a wide sweep of his arm, he announced, “Well, this is it.”

The weightlifting set and pull-up bar gleamed under the gaze of America’s Buffy posters and Teddy’s comic book regalia. It should have been strange, but it was home, and Teddy wrung his hands as Billy stepped into his space.

And God, Billy fit into it like a puzzle piece Teddy didn’t realize he was missing. He liked Billy Kaplan so fucking much. He liked his thick eyeliner and hair sculpted just-so, and even the inexplicable plaid overalls he was wearing with pride pins and Doc Martens. His presence filled any room that he walked into and Teddy’s heart hurt with the force of it sometimes, of wanting someone so much, of knowing he could hug Billy whenever he wanted, of knowing how proud his mom would be that even found the courage to try.

He hadn’t had the chance to come out to her before the crash.

Teddy couldn’t say for sure what she would have told him had she known, but he did know that she loved him no matter what. Maybe she’d even be a little annoyed that Teddy took so long to be honest about something so fundamental about himself.

“Can you actually use that thing?” Billy asked.

Teddy stumbled out of his thoughts and to his boyfriend (!!!!), who was pointing at the pull-up bar. Teddy sent a thank you into the universe for Billy noticing the exercise equipment and not the whiteboard on the back of the front door that read DEAD MOMS CLUB in bubble letters and the other random shit he and America had drawn on it in passing.

Teddy laughed a little, scratched a hand through his hair, and said, “Yeah, hang on. I’ll show you.” He gripped the bar and drew his chin up over the bar. The strain in his muscles only lasted a handful of seconds – Billy rushed him about three pull-ups in and tugged at Teddy’s shirt.

“What?” Teddy asked, breathless when he landed.

“You,” Billy said, “look so good. When you do – do the thing.”

“Do pull-ups?”

“Yes. You – arms.” Billy braced his palms on Teddy’s biceps.

Teddy seized the opportunity to draw Billy in close and kiss him. He could kiss Billy whenever he wanted, now. He liked that Billy fit so neatly against him, slender where Teddy was broad, angular where Teddy was square. He could spend forever running his hands over all the corners of Billy’s body and –

Oh, he could. He could do that if he wanted. He didn’t have to pine over the cute Hot Topic guy after buying new earrings anymore. He could kiss his cute boyfriend Billy who worked at Hot Topic and sold him earrings.

(and nipple rings – God, he was never going to get the image of Billy’s face out of his mind when Teddy told him about the nipple rings)

Teddy tilted his head back at his bedroom door. “You wanna –”

“_Yes_.”

Billy shoved Teddy down the short hall and Teddy laughed again, harder still when they tumbled so hard into his bedroom that Billy actually fell – slipping ass over tea kettle onto the worn carpet. Teddy offered him a hand up, and they kissed more, harder this time. The playfulness slid out of the picture when Billy ran his tongue along Teddy’s teeth. Teddy made a happy noise in his throat and kissed back just as hard, his blood buzzing his veins as he gripped Billy’s hips.

Teddy hefted Billy up in one hard lift and Billy went along, coiling his legs around Teddy’s waist.

“Holy shit,” Billy said against Teddy’s lips. “You are _strong_.”

“_Stronk,” _Teddy said back.

Billy snorted and pressed his forehead into Teddy’s neck. “Stronk,” he agreed, and they both giggled into each other’s skin.

Through the laughter, Teddy navigated them to his bed. As much as he could lift, a hundred and fifty pounds of boyfriend did strain after a while. He dumped Billy onto the mattress, crawled over him, and pecked the tip of Billy’s long nose. “You are so gorgeous,” he told him, quiet.

Billy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious,” said Teddy. “You just know who you are. That’s so cool, Billy.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Teddy kissed the disbelief off of Billy’s face. This kiss melted into something more, something with the slow slide of tongue against tongue, of lingering touches and wandering hands. Billy’s long fingers skated over the skin, where Teddy’s t-shirt rode up. He tugged at the fabric and asked, “Can I – can you take this off? Maybe?”

Teddy sat back on his heels, heart thundering. Billy had had his hands up under Teddy’s shirts before. He’d felt the hard swell of muscle and soft part of Teddy’s middle, knew that he was thicker than his clothes let on. Still. Outside of locker rooms, Teddy had never been naked with a guy before, and he especially hadn’t been naked with a boy whose opinion he actually, genuinely cared about.

(He used to care about a lot of opinions. He used to be a chameleon so he could shift to whatever iteration of himself fit other opinions. He didn’t do that anymore, but he liked Billy. He respected Billy. He respected Billy’s opinion.)

“You don’t have to,” Billy said, when Teddy didn’t move.

Heat rushed to Teddy’s face. “I want to,” he said. “I’m just nervous.”

“You. You’re nervous. You, Teddy Altman, are nervous.”

“Shut up,” Teddy said, but he was smiling. With a breath to steel himself, he pulled the shirt up over his head and tossed it back to the floor behind him.

Billy stared. Teddy held still, like prey, under his gaze. Then, he rubbed at the back of his neck and said, “You know, you’re getting out easy. You’re wearing overalls.” And he looked unreasonably good. Better than anyone should look in plaid overalls. Teddy didn’t understand the plaid overalls, but he understood that his boyfriend looked fucking fantastic in them.

“I can take the overalls off, if that’s what you’re going for,” Billy offered.

“Yeah?” Teddy said, hopeful.

Billy leaned up and knelt in front of Teddy. He rested his hand on Teddy’s arm, squeezed the swell of muscle, and pecked a kiss to Teddy’s lips. “Yeah.”

There was, admittedly, not a sexy way to take overalls off.

Teddy started laughing when Billy tripped over one leg, and in response, Billy wadded them up and threw the overalls at his face. Teddy caught them, one-handed, and cast them in the same direction as his t-shirt.

In the absence of the overalls, Billy tugged self-consciously at the hem of his black t-shirt. Teddy decided not to remark upon the Nightwing boxer briefs. Instead, he opened his arms and said, “C’mere,” and Billy listened, flying into Teddy enough to startle an _oof_ out of him.

That Billy might know who he was and still also be at odds with that maybe, possibly, might not have occurred to Teddy.

For a while, they sat like that, kneeling on Teddy’s mattress and...well, hugging.

“Okay,” Billy sighed. “Okay, I think I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

“Do we even know what we’re doing?”

“Not – well, no. I don’t.”

For weeks, they’d been making out in Billy’s car, mostly parked outside the mall in between and before and after their respective shifts, or parked a respectable distance away from Billy’s house so they didn’t get caught and interrogated by his family. Teddy had beat around the family bush for a while, then admitted he lived with America.

(He skirted around the whole death issue. Billy knew, but he didn’t _know_)

At which point Billy suggested they could make out at Teddy’s apartment with fewer clothes in the way. And then maybe more than make out, which was an idea Teddy was one hundred percent on board with, if he could get past being so nervous that he wanted to curl up under his blankets and pretend he didn’t exist.

Teddy cracked. He yanked Billy into him and kissed him harder than he’d ever kissed him before. He was so desperate to be as close as possible, to wrap Billy up in his bulk and be wrapped up in Billy’s spindly arms, to be tangled and together. Billy moaned a little into Teddy’s mouth, and Teddy pulled them back. He lay on his back and Billy straddled his lap, both of them half-dressed and – ah, yeah. Hard. Definitely hard.

In the name of comfort, Teddy undid the fly of his jeans and wriggled halfway out of them. Being trapped under Billy didn’t allow for a lot of movement, but at least his dick wouldn’t be pressing against his zipper, making a desperate bid for freedom because Teddy’s boyfriend (!!!!) was in his lap.

“M’gonna take these off,” Billy whispered against Teddy’s mouth, and the Nightwing underwear were gone in the blink of an eye.

Teddy gaped.

“What? Why are you looking at it like that?” Billy asked.

“I’m mostly impressed that I’m getting into your pants,” Teddy said, and Billy shoved at his chest. His thumb pressed up into Teddy’s nipple, right against the barbel – probably not on purpose – and Teddy sucked in a breath. The touch zinged right between his legs and, yeah, all right, maybe he needed to get on the same page as Billy, here.

Teddy reached into his underwear. He couldn’t breathe. The press of his palm to his erection gave him a measure of relief, something to hang onto while his mind reeled.

And then he pulled himself out of his underwear, and Billy stared at him the way that he stared at Billy.

Teddy swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I have some, uh. I have lube in my drawer. Over there.”

What he did with that lube was between Teddy, his dick, and his ass, but he supposed at this point Billy could be brought into the circle of trust.

Billy retrieved the half-used bottle of probably-too-cheap lube and pointedly did not mention that Teddy had managed to get a bunch of lube on the bottle itself. Billy fidgeted with the cap, poured a dollop into his palm and, after only a beat of thought, came in close. He kissed Teddy, slow and dirty, and then clumsily took both their cocks in hand. His fingers slipped and the grip was different, but oh God, Teddy wanted Billy’s hands on him forever.

Teddy reached down and wrapped his fingers around Billy’s fist. They took a minute to establish a rhythm, but when they did, the edges of Teddy’s vision started to go funny. His breath caught on nothing. He moved his hips into it, into their hands joined over their cocks, and Billy did too.

Above him, Billy snagged his lower lip between his teeth. His dark lashes cast a shadow over his high cheekbones, and Teddy was a goner for it all. He craned his neck up to kiss Billy and gasped into his mouth.

He came, without warning, over both of them, but neither of them stopped moving their hands. Their fingers coursed over Teddy’s oversensitive flesh and Billy’s erection all at once, until Billy squeezed his eyes shut and choked back a cry. Teddy cradled Billy’s face in his hands and kissed him quiet as he came, too.

For a long minute they stayed there: Teddy prone on the mattress with his jeans only partway down his thighs and his underwear halfway down his ass, and Billy above him still in his t-shirt, his forehead pressed to Teddy’s and his breath coming out in short, staggered pants.

“Wow,” Teddy finally said.

Billy pried his head up to blink down at him, and his lips pulled back in a shy smile, eyes crinkling at the corners around the uneven eyeliner that endeared Teddy to Billy all the more.

When Billy pulled back onto his knees, he groaned.

“There’s,” he started, and stopped. “I should have taken off the fucking shirt.”

Neither of them had really thought through twice as many of them meaning twice as much the – results.

Billy heaved a sigh and carefully disentangled himself from the offending t-shirt. Immediately, Teddy’s hands fell to feel along his chest, to slide over his bare shoulders and slender torso. He was skinny, that much was true – but Teddy could see that Billy filled out with muscle and growth befitting somebody near-twenty, clambering past a gawky teenage body.

Teddy’s palms ran down Billy’s thin arms. He stroked the pads of his thumbs over the scars on Billy’s wrists – pink scars. Not old. Billy toed around the scars as much Teddy toed around the subject of his mom. They knew that they each had stories, and they knew that neither of them was ready to tell them yet.

That was okay. Teddy trusted that they’d get there.

With some reluctance, they padded sticky and greasy and sweaty to the bathroom, where Teddy mopped them both up. Back in his room, he offered Billy a change of clothes. Seeing his boyfriend (!!!!) swimming in one of his t-shirts and tying the drawstrings tight on a pair of Teddy’s sweatpants so they’d sit snug against his hips inspired a stupid rush of pride and affection. That was his boyfriend. His boyfriend in Teddy’s clothes, skinny and looking like the cutest pissed off raccoon known to man.

While Teddy redressed in pajamas, Billy lingered on the cluster of pictures on the wall beside the door. There were only a few – Teddy and his mom when he was little. Teddy and his mom at his high school graduation. A selfie America and Teddy took in front of a mural downtown. Teddy with his bio dad last year, when he was in the hospital.

And Teddy’s biological parents back in high school, probably circa the time he was conceived. The back of the picture said 1998.

“Who are they?” Billy asked, like Teddy knew that he would.

“My biological parents,” Teddy said.

Billy hummed in thought. “So you know them, or?”

“My bio mom died when I was born,” Teddy answered. “I met my dad, um. I met him after Mom died. My mom-mom. The one that raised me. I looked for him. He’s gone too.”

Billy tore away from the pictures. “Shit, Teddy, I’m so sorry.”

Teddy shrugged a shoulder. “It is what it is. I kinda don’t want to talk about it.”

Billy let his head fall against Teddy’s arm and said, “I get that. You wanna watch a stupid movie?”

“I would love to watch a stupid movie, Billy.”

They set up on the couch that Teddy and America picked up off the side of the road before they moved in together, a huge, comfy beast of a sofa that only smelled funny for a little while after they acquired it. Teddy lounged against one side, and Billy crawled up into his lap, pressing his cheek to Teddy’s pecs while they let some terrible horror movie play on the screen. They didn’t pay attention, not really. Billy stayed awake long enough to criticize the fake blood and yawn around something that sounded like a concern for his brother’s feelings in regards to David from Puzzle Factory – but Billy didn’t elaborate on that.

By the time that America came tromping through the door, Billy was passed out on Teddy’s chest, a fistful of Teddy’s shirt clutched in his hand.

America’s brows soared right up at the sight.

“At least _somebody_ had a good day,” she complained.

“Rough shift?” Teddy asked.

America made a noise someplace between a growl and a sigh. She dumped her bag on the kitchen table, kicked her shoes off beneath it, and collapsed in the armchair they’d thrifted a couple months back. She said, “If one more grown-ass man calls me ‘sweetheart,’ somebody’s losing some teeth. And I’m losing another job.”

“I’m assuming you didn’t woman up and talk to Kate.”

“Don’t test me, idiot.”

“I’m just saying,” Teddy said, and spread out his hands in defense, “that actually talking got me a one hundred percent gen-u-ine boyfriend in my lap literally right now.”

“I’m a hot mess, Teddy,” America said.

“I can promise you that Kate is also a mess. She might even be more of a mess than either of us.”

“You saw her house.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

“We’re from two totally different worlds,” America went on.

“Maybe,” Teddy agreed mildly. “Or maybe not. You both work shitty retail jobs.”

“Ugh. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough. Buffy and beer?”

America jumped to her feet, energy renewed. “Yes. You queue Buffy. I’ll grab the beer.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to follow me @thepinupchemist on Twitter!! I'm a disaster human but that's where I talk writing, YA, MCU, and am always looking for new people to shout about the Young Avengers with


End file.
